My Bloody Valentine
by comicbookfan23
Summary: AU - S4 - 2/13 - It's Valentine's Day and what seems like a good day for the Winchester bros. inevitably becomes bad when they come across a case that deals with murders which have been occurring on this particular day for the last 20 years. WINCEST!
1. The Cast

**The Cast**

Jared Padalecki – Sam Winchester

Jenson Ackles – Dean Winchester

Katie Cassidy – Ruby

Robia LaMorte - Mackenzie Kimble/Phebe

William Sanderson - Arthur Greenway

Willa Ford – Gailyn Summerset

Scott Porter – Richard "Richie" Parker

Michael Bailey Smith – The "Miner"

And

Misha Collins – Castiel


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: I'm dedicating this episode to Jensen Ackles, who's appearing in the "My Bloody Valentine" remake that's coming out in 2009. The bad guy featured in this episode is based around the killer in the film but will be different in many ways.

* * *

**5 Years Ago**

For bored office secretary Gailyn Summerset, Valentine's Day is a time where, every year, she and her boyfriend would spend time at home, away from all the hassle of work, family and friends, and really concentrate on spicing up their relationship but not this year. Oh no, this year her ever-adventurous love of her life, Richard "Richie" Parker, practically bribed her into going on a "Valentine's Day" hiking trip with him to the back-end of nowhere with the simple promise that he'll shower her with so much love and affection that it'll make her both emotionally and physically sick but it's worth it though…or so she thought…

"How long until we get to this "Fork Mountain", Richie?" Gailyn asks stepping down the woodland trail, using her arms as balance as she paces herself down the stony slope after her boyfriend, who's busy reading the map.

"Not long now, babe!" He calls back to her, not turning round but instead focusing on the map, "It should be another 5-10 minutes down this trail and then we should be there to make up camp."

"Oh thank god! My feet are killing me!" She exclaims but in a way that's not harsh to Richie. As it's Valentine's Day and the weather's not particularly warm Gailyn made the decision of wearing a lavender, seamless, crew-neck top with a Minka down vest on top of it, wood-smoke coloured steep ravine pants and dark-brown Knightsbridge boots so they can keep her warm for the hike and sexy too but to no avail. The bitter wind and the lack of Sun made that near-impossible and she can't wait until they're wrapped up warm in their tent that will rid her of the cold that chills down her spine…

Later on, with the Sun now below the horizon and the Moon taking its place in the sky casting its waxen brilliance over the trees and mountains, Gailyn and Richie have managed to set up camp in a small clearing that's surrounded by many wild flowers and the trees (obviously!). With a small campfire blazing nicely Richie's sitting on a log that rests a few feet from the fire while Gailyn sits with her back towards him between his legs, toasting their marshmallows and laughing about the whole idea of this "hiking trip", not knowing that something's watching them from beyond the blackness of the trees, "So, what are we going to do for next Valentine's Day, huh? Climb up Mount Everest? Tightrope walk over Niagara Falls?" Gailyn asks with a laugh as her boyfriend squeezes her playfully with his broad arms, after all he does go to the gym a lot, "Hey! Don't make fun of my idea of us spending some quality time together. You gotta admit, we are completely alone now with no-one to bother or reach us."

_He does have a point_, Gailyn smiles to herself as she takes a bite of her nicely-toasted marshmallow, "You do prove a valid point. So, what can we possibly do in a situation like this?" She asks, her voice evidently leading him to only one answer.

Leaning down to whisper into her ear Richie replies mellifluously, "You know, we could carry on this conversation in the "bedroom", if you know what I mean?" She turns her head to see his eyebrows hinting at his "suggestion".

"Why Richie," she asks, getting onto her knees and looking at him with a sparkle in her eyes, "Whatever are you implying?" A smile slowly emerges from her beautiful, cherry-red lips, her white teeth shining in the moonlight.

Richie stands, from his sitting position on the log, slowly unzipping his jacket as he makes his way leisurely towards their tent, disappearing inside leaving her to ponder on his offer. Looking around there's really not much to do other than sit by the fire, staring at its fiery embrace.

_Besides, it'll burn off some necessary calories!_ She agrees, her smile growing bigger as she follows him into the tent, her jacket also coming off before she's inside.

Moments later Richie and Gailyn are both crying out in pure pleasure as he's lying on his back while she's straddling on top of him, her arms up in the air like she's on a mechanical bull and her 36C's bouncing rhythmically along with the tempo, "Oh god! Oh yes! Yes Richie! That's it! Oh! Oh!" She cries as though she wants everyone to know that they're having phenomenal sex.

After a while Richie's hands move from their original place, by her hips, and gradually moves up until they're nicely cupping her breasts as he tenderly caresses her nipples, which are standing to attention.

"Hmmm," a moan occurs from the back of her throat as she takes one of his hands, leaving the other groping sensitively at her breast, and extends two fingers before slipping them slowly into her mouth, performing a nice sucking motion.

"Sweet Jesus, you are so beautiful Gail!" He whispers but loud enough so he can hear him as a stray sensation causes his hips to buckle and she jerks with the motion.

"Really? Am I beautiful while I'm doing this or all of the time?" She asks, the fingers leaving her mouth as she arches her head back, her long, straight, brown hair patting against her back soothingly.

"You know what my answer is to that question," he answers with a smile, one that won her heart in the first place, as he hoists himself up so he's face-to-face with Gailyn before allowing his lips to connect with hers. It's passionate, wanting and full of bliss as they explore each other's mouths while he continues to thrust into her, both nearing their climax.

Pulling back from the kiss they both release a gasp for breath as she arches her head back again, one of Richie's hands holding the small of her back while the other still holds her breast. They both start to grunt sweet nothings, signifying the couple that they're about to literally "explode", "Oh yes! Oh Richie! Oh Gail! Oh! Oh!" They both scream in pure satisfaction as they both finally came, sweat seeping down their naked bodies. Gailyn collapses on top of Richie who embraces her with his robust arms, their hearts beating in synch with each other.

Once their breaths have quietened Gailyn decides to speak first, "Wow, we've done that how many times and it never gets old."

"That's why they call it a classic, honey," Richie responds in a husky voice, leaning over to kiss her softly on the forehead, "And it's gradually becoming one of our favourites."

"Ya telling me," she sighs, pulling him by his chin so she can kiss his swollen lips before slipping on her bra and panties and climbing into the sleeping bag.

Yanking his boxer-briefs on Richie stretches out the kinks in his back before turning round and giving Gailyn a quick kiss on the lips, "Just need to go and relieve myself. Be back in a sec," and before she can answer, he's pulling on his jacket and venturing out into the cold, leaving her to cuddle the sleeping bag even closer to her body.

Outside the campfire had long since died out and the only thing that was giving Richie enough light to see is from the Moon-lit sky, accompanied by millions of shining stars. Smiling to himself about how their night's going so far, he hurries over to several trees a short way away, feeling the cold rush up his legs and into his jacket, giving him that chill up his spine. As he opens up his jacket and pulls down his boxers in order to relieve himself, he feels as though there's a presence about him.

Still peeing but not stopping he turns his head round to see what's behind him but sees only the tent several yards away.

"Hello? Gailyn? Is that you?" He asks the quiet night, but not loud enough so his girlfriend can hear. He doesn't want her worrying that someone might be out there, spying on them or God knows what. When he's done, he pulls his boxers up and wraps himself in his jacket to keep himself warm until he's back at the tent when he suddenly feels that presence again, this time a little closer.

Scanning the place he can honestly see that there's no-one there and starts to pick up the pace. With the tent only a few yards away now Richie hurries, looking around the place to make sure that his instincts are true, but when he turns to face away from a nearby, thick tree, what appears to be a man in a mining suit emerges from behind it. At the same time as Richie revolves back round to face the tent, the "miner" lifts up his pick-axe and slams the pointed-edge right into the mouth just as his intended victim begins to scream. As it protrudes out the back of his throat the blood sprays across the air, splashing against a nearby tree and mostly on the ground. Richie instantly dies and slumps to the ground as the "miner" just stares at his slaying through his miner's mask before slowly turning towards the tent.

Leaning up onto her elbows Gailyn, still wrapped up in her sleeping bag, stares at the entrance of the tent and begins to worry about Richie, "Richie?" She shouts out, "How long does it take for you to "relieve" yourself?"

There's no answer. Only a sound of the rustling of trees and a stray owl hooting into the night. Clinging onto the sleeping bag she calls out again, "Okay! Fun's over! You've scared me! You can come back inside now!"

Still no answer.

"Goddamn it Richie, will you just get back inside the tent!"

At that juncture a slash occurs from behind her and, as she turns her head to see what it is, she can obviously see that someone's slashing through the tent to get to her. With no moment to lose, Gailyn climbs out of her sleeping bag and dives out the tent, screaming at the thought that's someone's out to get her. Running past the ashes of the campfire Gailyn continuously looks behind her, seeing if the attacker's still coming after her when she suddenly trips over something. (Yeah, you've guessed it! ;) )

"Ugh!" She grunts, falling flat on her face. Slowly turning over on her back she can see something beside her feet and finds that it's Richie, lying with his back to her.

"Oh Richie, thank God! –" But as she pulls him to face her she bawls out in terror, staring down at her dead boyfriend with a pick-axe lodged in his mouth. Through her tear-soaked eyes she can see something coming towards her from the tent, someone in mining gear she thinks, before clambering onto her feet and running in the other direction.

As the cold wind whips against her bare skin, as she's only wearing her bra and panties, Gailyn doesn't dare turn round as she might trip over something else.

"Help! Help me!" She cries out, not really knowing if anyone can hear her but does so anyway, "Somebody help me! Please!"

Her feet crunch on branches which have fallen on the ground, causing them to bleed, while the ones protruding from the trees scratch at her skin, slashing her as she passes by. She can't hear her attacker from behind and she doesn't want to stop running but, using up all her energy, it's going to leave her fatigued soon so she'd better find help soon or she knows what'll happen if she don't.

In the distance she can see what looks like a road and breaks for it, knowing full well that cars are bound to go passing by. Brushing through the last line of trees she finds herself next to a road, like she thought, and proceeds on crossing it. Just as she about to though, a hand grabs her by the hair and pulls her hard onto her back. She screams but the fall winds her, grabbing her chest and trying to breathe through her crying. Looking up she can see the "miner" looking down at her, his head turning to the side like a dog when it wonders what its master's saying to it. As the miner lifts the same pick-axe used to kill her boyfriend over his head, she takes a last chance at getting away and rolls sideways just in time for the pick-axe to take a stab at the ground, missing her by inches. Before the "miner" can take another swing, Gailyn forces herself onto her feet and sprints across the road, just missing a Volvo V70 before diving onto the other side, lying flat on her back and gathering for breath. Looking back at where the "miner" was, Gailyn finds, to her shock, that he's not there anymore before several voices catches her attention.

"Jesus H Christ! What do ya think ya doin', missy?" A balding middle-aged man asks angrily as he steps towards Gailyn. Beside him is a woman of the same age, shoulder-length blonde hair and wearing plain clothes, who Gailyn suspects is his wife and she stands to her feet. Seeing that she's bleeding and only in her underwear, the man soon stops with the angry banter, "Oh my god lady? Are you alright? What happened?"

Gailyn glances in the direction of where the "miner" was before looking back at the couple, asking through gentle sobs, "D-did you…s-s-see him?"

"See who, hun? Come here, let me wrap you in a blanket I've got in the back-seat. You must be freezing!" The woman offers with concern as she leads Gailyn towards the car.

"B-but did you…see any-o-one?"

"We didn't see anything, hun. Just you running onto the road and us nearly hittin' ya." The woman replies honestly as she climbs into the backseat with Gailyn before wrapping her up nice and tight.

"We need to get you to the nearest hospital so they can check you out." The man replies, before climbing back into his car and starting the engine. As they drive off in the direction that the couple were going in before nearly running her over, Gailyn has a feeling that she needs to turn around and when she does, there's the miner standing in the middle of the road, wielding his pick-axe, before disappearing into thin air.

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	3. Chapter 2

**Present Day**

It has been exactly a week since the boys were in New Orleans having fought and killed _the_ Count Dracula, even though a feeling at the back of their minds constantly reminds them that he has an annoying tendency to return back from the dead but for now he's stone-cold dead, and now they're in Cleveland, Tennessee, resting after a hard night's work disposing of a vengeful spirit that had it bad for a family of four back in Birmingham, Alabama.

Always the first one to wake Sam slowly opens his eyes, blinking to wipe away the blur effect as he steadily sits himself up. Wiping away the sleep beneath his eyes and stretching out his tired muscles, he combs his fingers through his already messed-up hair, thanks to Dean last night tugging on it like it was a life-saver or something. Sam lets out a soft yawn before looking down at his sleeping brother beside him; his hair as messy as his own, one arm over his head while the other lay nicely on his bare chest, his hand lightly grasping the amulet that hangs round his neck at _all_ times whilst his lower (naked) half's covered by the velvety blanket.

_I don't think I've actually seen him without that amulet, to be exact,_ Sam tells himself before smiling, his dimples gladly showing which would've caused even Dean to melt on the spot, if he were awake to see them. He turns the other way and looks down at the bedside alarm clock, _6:15, might as well get up and start the day_, as he climbs out of bed and makes his way into the bathroom to relieve himself, brush his teeth and have a nice "hot" shower before Dean uses it all.

A few hours later Dean wakes from his seemingly endless, dreamless sleep to find that Sam's not in bed. Wiping the sleep from his eyes with a fist he swings his legs round to set his feet on the soft carpet floor, stretching out his arms to loosen those tight muscles that seemed to be working on overdrive last night. After relieving himself he returns to the bedroom to pick up his boxers from off the floor and his muscle shirt from the chair, slipping them on to at least keep his dignity. His ears pick up faint tapping sounds coming from the kitchen area of their room and instinctively knows that it's Sam working away at his laptop. Dragging his tired feet along the floor Dean makes his way into the kitchen and, like he predicted, spots Sam at the table, garbed in today's clothes.

"Mornin' Sam," Dean can only muster, filling his chosen cup with the needed ingredients before switching on the kettle. Waiting for it to boil Dean exhales loudly, twirling his neck around to work out the kinks which causes him to yawn and stretch out his arms.

"Morning. I see that last night's "escapade" took a lot out of you than it did me," Sam smirks, not looking away from the computer screen.

"Ha, ha, very funny bitch. My body's still getting used to being alive, don't forget," Dean retorts huskily, pouring the boiling water into the cup whilst stirring it with the milk. He spoons out two sugars and stirs his cup again before placing it on the opposite side of the table from Sam and plonks himself onto the chair, resting his head in his folded arms on the table.

"Dude, that excuse's really getting old. You've had more than enough time to recuperate." Sam's still not looking away from the computer as though something's transfixed him to it.

"Okay, change of subject? What have ya got? Found anything interesting yet?" Dean asks in his current posture, sounding more like a mumble but Sam hears it all the same.

"Well, according to this website, unsolved murders have been occurring around the Fork Mountain area for the last 20 years. Police have found no evidence in catching the killer and out of all of them there's only been one survivor," Sam describes, tapping the keyboard to further in his search.

Dean looks up from under his arms, "So? What's that got to do with us? We deal with the supernatural, not serial killers."

"Well that's just it Dean, the police have found no evidence to lead themselves to a suspect. No footprints were found at the scene, other than the victims of course, no murder weapon, basically no hint of the killer actually being there."

Dean then sits up straight, takes a swig of his coffee, scratches his head before answering him back, "So, ya thinkin' maybe it's another spirit or a ghost with a serious enough grudge?"

Sam finally looks away from the screen, "No doubt about it. It all fits into the category; spirits don't leave any trace of themselves behind and judging by the area's history, it fits the bill perfectly."

Dean's eyebrows crease into a confused yet questioning gaze, "Why? What happened?" He takes another sip of his coffee.

"Well it says here that: "Back in the 1950s, when Fork Mountain was a thriving mining camp and had a sizeable population, it had at least 6 underground mines and most of the men who lived there had jobs working them. It wasn't until February 14th 1988, a good 30 years later, when something unpredicted transpired and one of the mines collapsed on itself. Most of the men were just shaken up, some were injured but not fatally but there was only one fatality. A Lawson Greenway; son of Arthur Greenway who was the Mayor of the town before it was dismantled shortly after Lawson's tragic death. It also said that Lawson was going to propose to his girlfriend, Mackenzie Kimble, later on that night but never got the chance to"," Sam reads out, saddening at the very thought that Lawson never got the chance to admit his everlasting love to his "soul-mate".

After downing the last of his coffee Dean perks up, "So let me see if I can work it out; guy gets killed in mining accident on the night he was gonna express his love and ask the "big" question to his girlfriend. His spirit can't rest with that fact so he returns with a vengeance every Valentine's Day to pick off any lovers who happen to appear in the area. Am I right?" He finishes with his trademark smirk which leaves Sam to smirk back, "Pretty much, all the victims were all couples and the murders date back to one year after the accident…February 14th 1989."

Dean stands up, letting out a quick stretch before moving himself behind his chair, his hands gripping the back of it, "So what about the lone survivor? What happened to him, or her?"

"Erm, let me take a look," he taps on the keyboard and waits a few seconds before, "Hah, here we go; Gailyn Summerset, age 29, and currently living in, oh," He stops, reading in more of the info. Dean edges himself round to see what he's looking at.

"What? Where does she live?"

"Seattle, Washington. Says here that she wanted to get as far away as she possibly could from where it happened."

Dean pushes himself from leaning on the table and lets out a small, frustrated gasp, "Dammit! Guess questioning _her's_ out of the picture," he puts his hands onto his hips.

"So what's the plan Dean?"

"What we always do in a situation like this; find where he died, get to his bones, salt and burn them. Hunt over."

"We'll need to ask around. If you remember there are 6 or more underground mines and we don't know which one he was working the night he died."

Standing, thinking for a minute, Dean eventually nods to the idea, "Alright, I just need to take a shower first. I can still smell your sex on me from last night's "escapade." He then turns to walk away but Sam manages to lean over from his seat and slap his ass before he's out of range, "Well hurry up, we haven't got all day!" He shouts after him, watching Dean disappearing into the bedroom before hearing the bathroom door open and close.

Valentine's Day's tomorrow and if the Winchester brothers hope to vanquish Lawson's vengeful spirit before he disappears for another year, they're gonna need some _serious_ help.

Sam twiddles his thumbs while waiting for his laptop to shut down, thinking about what they should do about their current state and thinks the unthinkable, _Maybe I should call Ruby? She might be able to help but how am I going to keep Dean away from seeing us two together? Ever since Dracula, he's never once left my side and he's gonna turn all kinds of red once he finds out that Ruby's back and been helping me these last few months. But what choices have I got? _

He sits there quietly in his thoughts before he finally decides on what he's going to do.


	4. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I can't express how sorry I am for taking so long to post this but with the X-Mas holidays and my computer recently messing up, I just didn't have the time or the ability to write and post them. So I'm currently writing them up on my parent's laptop, so fret not! My New Year's Resolution is to try to post as frequently as I possibly can! Wish me luck!

Author's Note 2: On with the story; from now on I'm also making it possible that in this alternate reality, men also have the ability to reproduce but mostly those who are in gay relationships, as you'll find out in this chapter. If they are in a hetero relationship however, they can reproduce through artifical insemination, just like women can.

* * *

The Winchesters left the motel nearly a hour later, thanks to Dean taking ages to take a shower, get dressed and find his keys to his second "baby" , before they set off to interrogate those that might've had any idea on what mine Lawson was working in on the night of his accidental death. Finding no clues thus far and seeing as it was near enough dinner time, they decided to take a break at a local café in which Dean had ordered the day's special; Double Cheeseburger with Gherkins and Salad but what surprised him most of all was the fact that Sam had ordered the same thing and by the rate he was eating it, Dean thought he was going to have to order him another...

"Take it easy there Sam. If you don't slow down you're gonna give yourself indigestion or something," Dean manages to mumble through his cheeseburger before swallowing it down, followed by a swig of his freshly-grounded coffee.

"I can't help it Dean, I just feel so hungry. Like I haven't eaten for weeks," Sam answers, shoving the cheeseburger into his mouth the best he could without choking on it.

_What is the matter with him? He's never eaten like this, hell, he practically doesn't eat at all unless I tell him to. However, since the day I returned and we made love that same night, as though it was our first time, he's been gradually eating more than usual which isn't like him for definite_, Dean mulls over, watching Sam as he downs his Coke in one swig.

Sam catches Dean looking at him with that worried look on his face and gives him a small smile, just enough to show off his cute dimple, "What? What's wrong Dean? Have I got something on my teeth or around my mouth?"

"Nah, it just that I haven't seen you like this before," he shifts back on his seat before continuing, "Are you okay? Do you feel alright? Should I be worried?" Dean asks worryingly, looking at him as though trying to scrutinize what exactly is wrong with him.

Sam responds with an exasperated sigh, "I am perfectly fine Dean, stop trying to "Mother Hen" me! So I was feeling a little hungrier than usual, so what? What's so worrying about that?"

Dean leans in closer so as not to disturb the other customers with their quarrel, "Is just that I find it a little strange that you've been eating more than you usually do, ever since I came back that day to be exact. Come on Sam, you've got to find that's a little strange?"

Sam falls back against his side of the booth and crosses his arms, his face now showing a little anger, "What are you suggesting Dean? That I might be expecting because you know as well as I do that the one time that we don't use protection doesn't automatically make me pregnant!" That comes out a little too loudly as some of the customers look in their direction before returning to what they were doing.

"I wasn't suggesting that but what if you were, huh Sam? Have you ever thought of that? And if you are then it means I've gotta look out for both you and the baby," Dean replies, making sure that he doesn't raise his voice for others to hear.

"You know what Dean, I can tell you right here and now that I am not pregnant so you can stop thinking that I am and we can get back to finding this goddamn mine!" And with that Sam collects his jacket and storms out the café, leaving Dean feeling slightly embarrassed now that everyone's looking at him with stern faces.

_Oh God, I really don't need this right now!_ Dean's mind exclaims as he reaches into his pocket, takes out the right amount of money for the food and places it on the table before giving his onlookers his trademark smirk, leaving the café to catch up with Sam. As soon as he pushes through the door to leave, he can see him leaning against the passenger side of his Impala, his arms wrapping around his chest and his back to him.

_Oh this is gonna be fun_, he smirks to himself, stepping down the few steps on his way to his "babies", but approaching them from his side so as not to anger Sam more than he already had. Yet when Sam revolves to face him, Dean finds that his face isn't full of anger now, like it was a few moments ago, but with regret, "I'm sorry Dean, for bursting out at you like that. It was wrong of me and I know that you're just looking out for me like you always do." Sam accompanies his apology with a small dimpled smile but Dean waves it away with his usual smirk, "Ah, forget about it Sam. It wasn't my place to suggest that sort of thing." He then climbs into his seat and turns the ignition, smiling like he always does when he hears his "girl" roar into life.

A few seconds later Sam climbs into his seat and shuts the door, turning onto his side to get a better angle of Dean, "It just sort of caught me off guard, you know. The idea of bringing a child into a world that's full of darkness and sadness and...so much evil," Sam clarifies, moving back against his seat to look out of the window.

Dean can tell the amount of worry that's in his little brother's voice and he evidently sympathizes his reaction, "I know how you feel Sammy," he rests his hand on Sam's thigh, causing him to look back into those beautiful hazel eyes, "But don't forget that the world's also filled with light and people who are willing to risk their lives for the safety of their loved ones, like yours truly for instance."

Those words immediately hit Sam's soft spot as tears trickle down his cheeks but Dean wipes them away the best he can with his thumb before pulling him gently into a compassionate kiss which Sam returns likewise, easing as Dean traces his lips with his tongue. When they stop for breath, Sam backs off a little but still cupped in Dean's arms before smiling, "I think it would be best if we continued this later. Are you forgetting that we've still have to find the whereabouts of that mine Lawson was working in."

Dean heaves a sigh, "But we've talked to most of the people in this town who might've had any idea which one it is but they're either too old to remember or too young to know." He then releases Sam from his embrace before moving over to his seat, his eyes fixed on the windscreen.

"Not everyone Dean, are you forgetting that we still need to question his Dad and his "then" girlfriend Mackenzie Kimble?"

Jerking the gear into reverse Dean smirks from the corner of his mouth, "Oh yeah, I nearly forgot about those two. So, whereabouts do they live?" He asks, pulling out of his parking space and stopping at the exit, waiting for Sam to lead.

"I dunno, we'll just have to ask someone for directions or something," he shrugs, leaning against the window with the help of his elbow. Dean glares at him as though he's supposed to know about these things and Sam retaliates, "What? You don't expect me to know everything, do you?"

Dean can only shake his head and let out a small laugh as he shifts into first and forces his foot down on the pedal, putting on his favourite Metallica tape and thundering down the street on their new quest.


	5. Chapter 4

Having eventually found someone who knew the whereabouts of Lawson Greenway's father, Arthur, the brothers found themselves at the very outskirts of Cleveland, to the south and hidden away in the suburbs. When they parked the Impala outside the gate, they marvelled at the house in which he lived in; a large country house with a huge front garden, complete with statues and a huge water fountain, what seemed like a hundred of windows were set in front of it (with no doubt that they'd be more at the side and behind it), and welcomed its visitors with two large stone pillars that were obviously showing their age via foliage that had wrapped itself round them...

Dean whistles, "Whoa, being a mayor sure has its perks," he then replies in his usual tone before he and Sam unbuckle their seatbelts and climb out of the car. Wrapping himself up in his coat Sam follows his big brother as they pass through the gate, knowing to close it afterwards, and stroll themselves down the stony driveway, hearing their shoes crunch on top of the stones. Reaching the front door Dean looks to Sam, who nods, before he presses the doorbell, it releasing a chime reminiscent to that of a church bell ringing.

"What is he now, a vicar?" Dean tries to humour the mood but instead gets a slap across the arm. He rubs at it, obviously it didn't hurt but likes the look that Sam's giving him, as though wanting to kiss it better although the opening of the door holds him back.

A white-haired, wizened old man answers the doorbell and looks at the two young boys with squinted, baggy eyes, "Yes?" He coughs, taking out a handkerchief from his pocket and holds it over his mouth.

"Mr. Greenway, I presume?" Sam asks in his most polite tone as Dean scans the man as though he can tell if he is or not.

"No, I'm his butler Gregson. How can I help you young boys?"

"We're reporters from the Daily Star and was wondering if we could speak to Mr. Greenway, if that's alright?"

The butler's stance hardens, "What's this all about? The last time any reporters came around here was the time his youngest son died in that awful accident all those years ago."

"Have you heard about the murders that have been going on up at Fork Mountain? Near the site of the accident," Dean interjects, with a disapproving nudge from Sam.

"Yes, from reading the papers and watching the news. Absolutely terrible, but what has this got to do with Mr. Greenway?"

This time Sam interjects, giving Gregson a kind smile, "Well, we have reason to believe that it has something to do with Mr. Greenway's son and that...accident 20 years ago."

Then there's silence...the two brothers watch as the information they just gave the old man gradually sinks into his head before they hear a voice shout from the background, "Gregson, please, send them in."

Gregson, with a nod of his head, gestures them into the house as they nod in response, waiting for him to shut the door and lead them to the sound of the voice. Entering the room they quickly assess that this is the living room, with its exquisite-looking three-piece suite, expensive ornaments and pictures of what seem to be family and friends. In the chair furthest away from them and nearest the window sits Arthur Greenway, wearing a woolly jumper, tanned trousers and loafers to match with a cigar resting on an ashtray beside him. He moves himself round to face his guests and motions them to sit on the sofa opposite him.

"What is this I hear about the involvement of my son with the murders up in Fork Mountain?"

He brothers are speechless, despite his age it seems that Arthur Greenway has perfect hearing, "And by the looks on your faces it seems that you thought I might be deaf or hard-of-hearing at my old age. I can tell you now that I can see and hear as perfect as you two can." He then looks at Gregson with a small smile, "You may leave us."

"Right sir," and with that, Gregson leaves and closes the door behind him, permitting the trio their privacy.

"Well Mr. Greenway –," Sam starts but is interrupted by the man himself, "Please, call me Arthur. There's no need to be so formal, I'm not mayor anymore." He then pours himself a drink and offers the boys one. Dean's about to consider it but Sam nudges him, turning it down with a sigh.

"Okay, Arthur, through our research we have reason to believe that the murders have something to do with your son's...untimely death," Sam says with a pause, "But we don't know why." He lies, knowing full well that it might be his vengeful ghost with a bloodthirsty grudge

Dean then takes over the conversation, "We came here today wondering if you could tell us which mine he was working in on the night of the accident, to further help our investigation."

"The police had already swept the area as soon as it was safe enough to enter and found no trace of him. Told me it looked like he vanished into thin air," Arthur takes this moment to take a swig of what he had in his glass before answering his question, "But if it'll help you, he was working in Mine No.3 right next to the water tower. I shall always remember that because it overlooked the forest and it was his and Mackenzie's favourite spot. They'd spend hours up there just sitting next to each other, arm in arm, watching as the world goes by without a care."

Sam's heart can't help but melt at the sound of that beautiful image as his mind plays out the scene but instead of Lawson and Mackenzie, it's him and Dean, on a perfect hot, summer's day. He's only interrupted when Dean starts to get up, "Thank you for your time Arthur. You have no idea how much you've helped us," he then signals Sam with a turn of his head that they're leaving.

"Yes, we're truly sorry we had to bother you with this," Sam tries to apologize but Arthur waves it away, "I appreciate your apology young man but you don't need to be. I had mourned and accepted his death a long time ago and have since become stronger in myself because of it. You take care now boys."

"We will. Goodbye Mr. Greenway," Sam replies with a small smile before following Dean out of the room and out of the house.

"Goodbye boys!" Arthur calls from the room, before he returns to his staring out of the window with a smile of his own forming on his face.


	6. Chapter 5

Author's Note: The bit about the spirit appearing at midnight is totally made up so I can give the gorgeous boys something to do while they wait! I can safely say you'll definitely enjoy what they get up to!

* * *

Having retreated back to the motel to "occupy" themselves until they set off again before it gets dark. It takes the duo 6 and a half hours before they reach their given destination around 11 o'clock as Dean shuts off the engine and observes Sam with his trademark smirk.

"What?"

"Seeing as this dude's not coming out until the strike of midnight, wanna "camp" out in the backseat?" He then slicks his lips with his tongue and raises his eyebrows, obviously trying to seduce him into his offer.

"Is sex all you think about?" Sam asks, endeavouring his brother's tempting offer with a firm stance but slowly failing with Dean reaching out and massaging the side of his face with a warm, soft, manly hand.

"No, but it's the only thing we can do while we wait," he replies honestly, edging himself closer so his lips are just inches away from touching Sam's.

"We could try at a conversation or listen to some music?" Sam suggests, but can only smile as Dean moves away a little, "You are such a girl when it comes to these situations," before his lips finally reach their goal.

The kiss is short, sweet and passionate, lips on lips like always, before Dean seizes this moment to force his tongue in for dominance. Yet it's not much of a battle as Sam allows him to trace every bit of his mouth with that wicked tongue of his. While all this is happening Dean's free hand traces down Sam's body, feeling the soft fabric of his jacket before reaching his intention; the undoing of his belt but before he can achieve this, Sam forces him gently away.

"What's wrong?" Dean looks with concern but can only see that alluring smile that he loves so much on his brother's face.

"Shouldn't we be doing this in the back seat?" He asked, nodding in the direction which seems to be beckoning them.

"Good idea."

With that the brothers exit from their side of the car and enter seconds later in the back, continuing straight away from where they left off. As soon as they lock lips, they both take their time in taking off each other's jackets before slinging them in the front, all the while keeping their lips firmly locked, Sam now fighting for dominance but never succeeding. They take a breath after their fighting of the tongues, Sam using this time to tug at the bottom of Dean's shirt before bringing it up and over his head, slinging it with the jackets. He observes from top to bottom before attacking his mouth again, this time finally having dominance of their hot-blooded kissing. While placing one hand over Dean's heart, he can't help but love the feel of its soft beating against his palm as he uses the other to fondle at his belt, fingering the buckle before successfully unfastening it. Letting their swollen lips part for just a second, Sam pulls at the jeans and throws them with the others once they're off, their lips once again locked. Slowly leaning Dean back until his head's resting between the window and the top of the backseat Sam's domineering lips trail from Dean's to his stubble chin, allowing the little brown hairs to tickle his moist tongue before tracing it down to his "Adam's Apple", taking it fully into his mouth. It triggers a rich "purr" deep within Dean's throat, causing Sam to continue on his urge to devour it, his hand softly tugging his brother's hair back to allow him more access to it.

When he feels that he "devoured" it enough his lips begin to trail even further down, their course set for the exposed nipples that have become hard due to the cool air that's circulating around the car. Adjusting himself in his seat to get better entrée Sam takes one into his mouth, his lips and tongue licking and sucking at the tight nub, while he plucks at the other with a hand, making sure that it doesn't feel left out before eventually swapping round.

Dean sniggers at his Sammy's relentless sucking, licking and nipping, caressing one hand through his messy bangs, which still smells of the shampoo he had used that morning, whilst rubbing small, soothing circles in different places of his back. He's just about to get lost in this pleasurable spectacle when he notices Sam's fingers gently pulling at the waistband of his boxers. _Oh no you don't Sammy, not yet anyway_.

He pulls Sam back up to his level, cupping his hands on his slightly flushed face before showing off his smirk, "Not just yet Sammy, I want a chance to devour you this time," and he does, doing exactly the same as he did but giving extra soft kisses to the dimples on his smile and the small moles which are picture-perfect on his gorgeous face. As soon as their lips are swollen from kissing, sucking, licking and nibbling, Sam again pushes Dean back until he can go no further before tugging at the boxers which are holding Dean's enlarged member prisoner. This time he doesn't hinder him as he tugs them off and watches as it flops onto his flat stomach. Inches of hard, enticing flesh which Sam seizes at the base before licking the underside with the point of his tongue. Dean formulates an "O" with his puffy, cherry lips as Sam takes all of it into his mouth without even a word of warning. Dean rests his hands behind his head gyrating his hips, which Sam grabs with his "Sasquatch"-like hands, to the rhythmic bobbing of Sam's head as he proceeds in taking all of it into his mouth, hearing the occasional slurp now and then. The sweet taste of his brother's pre-cum in his mouth only brings him to wanting more, trying to shove it in as much as he can before his gag reflex comes into effect.

Feeling as though he's trying to choke himself to death with it Dean pulls him out of his mouth, hearing the wet slurp as he does, his eyes now on Sam's, "Careful Sammy, you tryin' to choke yourself or somethin'?" He looks almost worried as Sam answers his concern with a dimpled smile, "Sorry, I don't know what came over me?"

Seeing that his instant concern's also softening his throbbing member Dean quickly waves it away, not wanting to lose the moment they're having, "Come on, lie back. It's time for the grand finale."

Doing as he's told Sam stretches out as best he can on the seat though being 6'3", it did have its drawbacks. Relieving Sam of his boxers, Dean heaves his muscular legs onto his shoulders before taking two fingers and applying them into his mouth, sucking on them until they're fruitfully lubricated. Bearing in mind that they didn't bring the lube from the motel with them, Dean's got to solely rely on his saliva and own bodily fluid, that's trickling slowly out from his tip, to ease himself into Sam, hoping that he won't hurt him in the process. Taking the fingers out his mouth he gently caresses them round Sam's entry, slipping them in but careful enough not to hurt as he feels the muscles gradually easing after a few minutes of preparing him.

"Please Dean, I don't think I can last much longer," Sam pants, arching his head back and groaning at his frustration. Not needing to be asked twice Dean, holding onto Sam's legs, gently slides his aching cock into the slick entrance and gradually begins to thrust into Sam. Since they weren't using lube Dean's momentum inside him didn't hurt in the slightest, only causing Sam to pant in rhythm and tug at his sweaty bangs in pure ecstasy.

Glimpsing at his moaning brother in all his glory in the moonlight, he couldn't describe how gorgeous he looks with his muscles tensing and his sweat gleaming in the light as he continues to thrust inside him. Sam takes notice of this and shows off a dimpled smile, "What?"

"Nothing," he grunts, leaning down to steal a quick kiss on this swollen scarlet lips of his, "Just marvelling at how beautiful you look, that's all."

"Careful Dean," Sam manages to get out before he lets out a satisfying gasp when Dean's hardened length touches his prostate before progressing, "You're started to sound like those chick flicks you hate so much."

"I'll let it go this time seeing as it's true," he smirks, leaning down again to expose his tongue which Sam takes into his mouth and explores every inch of it.

After a few minutes of kissing and thrusting the sweaty boys can feel that they're both near the climax, with Dean driving with every strength in his body while Sam fists his own length and jerks it in unison as they are both practically panting with exhaustion. Sam comes first as it erupts onto his chest and stomach before realizing that Dean's about to come and immediately warns him, "Pull out Dean! Pull out!"

Just realizing himself Dean does as he's told, for once, and slides out of him just in time to explode onto the safety of Sam's stomach, which is now literally swathed in both their bodily fluids. Taking this moment to lessen their panting Dean bends forward, taking one of Sam's erect nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking it, before capturing the soft lips of his brother in short, passionate kisses. Once their breathing's back down to normal Dean, with one arm resting on top of the back seat while the other rests on the front, smirks at Sam loving the sight that's lying before his eyes, never wanting this moment to end. Hell, he never wanted moments like this to end but alas, they had a job to do and in their line of work, the job comes first, the rest when it's finished.

"Dean, you got something to wipe myself with? I can't chase after Lawson's spirit with this," he gestures to the spunk that's drying up on his stomach and chest, "sticking to my clothes, can I? I might attract wildlife with its pungent scent."

Stretching his hand out to reach under the front seat he pulls out a white cloth that had been making its home under there and lobs it at Sam, hitting him in the face. He rips it off his face and whips Dean with it, smiling at his attempts of blocking it.

"Jerk," Sam laughs under his breath, wiping away their love from his naked body while Dean searches in the front for his clothes before slipping them on, one at a time, "Bitch."


	7. Chapter 6

A/N: Seen _My Bloody Valentine_ on Tuesday with my twin brother and let me just say that Jensen couldn't look more gorgeous on the big-screen if he tried!!! He makes my heart bump a million times a second! And whilst I was watching it, all I kept thinking was "He's not Tom Hanniger, he's Dean Winchester! Forever always! Same with Jared when I go to see him in _Friday the 13th_! Whatever they do from now on, other than Supernatural obviously, they're just gonna be the Winchester bros to me, always! Tall, handsome and drop dead bonkable! Oh, and _MBV_ is an excellent slasher flick and respectable remake which will be joining my other collection of masterful horrors and remakes!!! I ask all of you reading this to go see it now! You won't be disappointed! I wasn't!

* * *

It's about 5 or 6 minutes until it's midnight and the brothers are already on their way to the mine, leaving the Impala behind but taking their bare essentials in the bag that Dean's carrying in his hand. Since their "saucy romp" in the back of the car, they haven't said a word to one another, not wanting to lose their guard if "The Miner" happens to make his appearance. As their shoes crunch on the stones on the road, the trees on either side of the road whistle in unison with the breeze as well as being shrouded in darkness. With the road splitting into a three-way crossroad, they immediately turn left and continue to hike up the hill which will eventually lead them to the deserted town of Fork Mountain…

"16 minutes past midnight. Happy Valentine's Day De," Sam smirks, putting his hands into his jacket pockets after looking at his watch whilst Dean rummages through the bag for their torches. The town looks exactly like those seen in old 1950s-style horror flicks that were based in ghost towns. All the doors and windows to the buildings are boarded up nice and tight, cars that were left behind are now missing everything except for their exterior and the only plant life that thrives there are stinging nettles.

"Now's not the time for that Sammy. If you remember we've got a job to do," Dean replies in a serious tone, with his back towards him as he finally locates the torches, "Ah, finally! I was starting to think I didn't pack them." He then throws one to Sam, who catches it with one hand and flicks it on, its luminance nearly blinding Dean.

"Hey! Point it the other way, dummy!" Dean retorts behind his hands which covers his eyes.

"Oops, sorry."

"Come on, let's get this over and done with. It's frickin' freezing out here!" Dean moans, shrugging his shoulders as a gust of cold wind brushes by him, Sam following shortly behind with a smile on his face.

After half an hour of searching for Mine No.3 and with no sign of "The Miner" yet, they eventually find it at the very back of the town with the water tower standing tall and proud, overlooking the cliff that resides next to it. While Dean's picking the padlock that's securely bolted to the steel door of the Mine, Sam gazes from the spot next to the water tower, wondering if the view really was that beautiful and hoped in his heart that, before they leave this place after finishing their job, he and Dean will get to see it in all its beauty.

"…Sam? Sam! Hello, Earth to Sam!" He can hear Dean shouting in the background, waking him from his pleasant daydreaming as he turns round and shows off his dimpled smile.

"I bet you were thinking about that view Arthur talked about, weren't ya?" Dean asks, exposing his trademark smirk as Sam walks past him, lightly punching his arm, "You think you're so smart, don't ya Dean?"

"I like to think I am, yes," he answers, following his little brother into the dark mine before they both flick on their torches in unison. Walking further and further into the mine the boys can see old tools, equipment and other mining paraphernalia all covered in cobwebs and the controls to operate the lights and the carts looked like they've never been touched since the "accident". With one hand grasping the torch and aiming at the lever, Sam uses the other to pull it down and jumps back when it sparks. A few seconds later the lights flickered on and illuminated the whole mine. The boys look in surprise at the fact that they still worked after all these years.

"And then there was light," Dean smiles, turning off his torch and putting it back into the bag. Sam does likewise but slips his torch down his back jean pocket. Looking around the place they can both see that there were several tunnels leading in all different directions and they knew it'll probably take them a day at least to search though all of them thoroughly. So, in true Winchester manner, Dean next pulls out a device that looks sort of like a GPS which helps them track down supernatural energies or, in this case, decomposing corpses and gestures it out in front of him, flicking the switch on the side of it to turn it on. It begins to bleep but not so much so to indicate that the body's in the first tunnel therefore he continues onto the next and so forth until it finally specifies the right one with consecutive bleeps.

"Seems like it's behind door number 3. Is that a coincidence or is that just me?" Dean utters, moving toward the dark opening whilst Sam just smiles, shaking his head at the thought of it.

A few minutes into the tunnel and their nostrils are positively burning with the smell of rotting flesh lingering in the air, indicating that the body must be close.

"God, it stinks! I can never get over the smell of corpses! I'm gonna take a long, hot shower after this is done!" Dean muffles through his sleeve, which he has over his mouth and nose to take away most of the stench.

"If that's the case, then you won't mind if I joined you. I'm not having you hogging all the hot water and leaving me the cold like you normally do," Sam declares from a few steps back, his sleeve over his mouth like Dean's.

"If you say so, doesn't bother me one bit," he replies, eyes on the GPS device and his mind somewhere else, thinking of the things they could get up to in the shower that they haven't done already.

Continuing on they find themselves at a dead-end yet the device's telling them that the body's somewhere around here. Dean's hand holding the device slumps to his side and he gives out a deep sigh, "You've got to be kidding me?"

As Dean brushes by his brother, Sam holds up his torch and notices something in the corner of the dead-end before walking over to it, "I've never known you to give up so easily Dean," he replies, looking at his finding, "There seems to be a small tunnel here."

When Dean turns to inspect he notices Sam taking off his jacket to allow more room for him to crawl through the hole and immediately steps towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder to hinder him, "Whoa, Sam! Where do you think you're going?" Dean barks, eyeing Sam as he stands up to him, "Where do you think?"

"Oh Hell no," Dean says with a shake of the head, "You're staying right here where I know it's safe. I'll crawl through the tunnel and call you when I know it's safe for you to come through."

Sam raises his hands into an angry gesture, "All right Dean, enough! You know as well as I do that I can take care of myself perfectly well and besides, I've been doing so without your help for the last 4 months so just give it a rest! " His lips are pursed, his eyes narrowing and his hands firmly on his hips.

It's Dean's turn to have the stern look as he crosses his arms over his chest, "Oh really Sammy? Then what about the incident in New Orleans? Care to explain how you took care of yourself then, huh?"

Dean waits for an explanation but all he gets is a deep sigh as though Sam's been holding his breath for a long time, "If it wasn't for me "saving" your ass, you'd be Dracula's love slave right about now!"

Then there's silence between the two steaming brothers. Sam knows that Dean's right but he hates to admit it. Makes Dean feel like he's superior or something and that's not what Sam wants. He wants to prove to Dean that he _can_ look after himself.

"Please Dean," Sam eventually breaks the silence in a softer voice, one that Dean finds impossible to resist as he steps forward and places his hands on his, a half-smile forming on his soft lips.

Dean takes a moment to think, staring into Sam's hypnotic stare, before finally giving into it, "Alright but if something happens to you, that's it. You're never leaving my side again, ya hear?"

Sam can't help but smile at his brother's response, knowing full well that he wouldn't have it any other way. Returning to the tunnel Sam kneels down, slips the torch into his back pocket and drops down on his stomach before crawling into the hole with Dean using his torch to give him some light. As he proceeds in crawling through it he tries his best not to breathe so hard so as not to allow the dirt to fly up his nose or in his face. What seems like ages since he first started crawling through, Sam finally reaches the end and clambers onto his feet once he has the room to.

"Dean! I've reached the other end!"

"Alright, can you see any trace of Lawson's body!"

Sam takes out his torch and flicks it on, illuminating the place with its beam of light to search for Lawson's hidden body. Sam tries his best to cover his mouth with his free hand from the stench that's evidently stinking out the dark cavern as he steps further in. He coughs a few times, the stench becoming unbearable as he notices something in the back. _Oh crap! I left my gun in my jacket pocket!_ That's the second time he's forgotten to arm himself and if Dean catches wind of this, and he most likely will, Sam's gonna get it tenfold. Leaving it up to his fighting skills Sam edges closer to whatever he noticed and when he gets the full view of it, he looks away in disgust.

Then something unusual emerges from the pit of his stomach…_Is that nausea?_ Before Sam can wonder what it is he spins round and bends forward, vomiting up whatever he'd had today before finding himself dry heaving. Wiping the substance from his lips and tasting the foul tang in his mouth, Sam questions where that feeling came from. In all the times when he happens to see a dead body, never has he had the urge to vomit…so why did he now?

Then the conversation they both had at the café suddenly plagues his mind, answering the very question he was asking himself.

"_Are you okay? Do you feel alright? Should I be worried?" _

"_I am perfectly fine Dean, stop trying to "Mother Hen" me! So I was feeling a little hungrier than usual, so what? What's so worrying about that?"_

"_Is just that I find it a little strange that you've been eating more than you usually do, ever since I came back that day to be exact. Come on Sam, you've got to find that's a little strange?"_

"_What are you suggesting Dean? That I might be expecting because you know as well as I do that the one time that we don't use protection doesn't automatically make me pregnant!"_

"_I wasn't suggesting that but what if you were, huh Sam? Have you ever thought of that? And if you are then it means I've gotta look out for both you and the baby."_

"_You know what Dean, I can tell you right here and now that I am not pregnant so you can stop thinking that I am and we can get back to finding this goddamn mine!"_

With the little light that's beaming from his torch Sam peers down to his stomach and presses a hand on it, as though trying to sense the life that could be growing inside of him. All the pieces fit together but it's too early to determine…

"Could I be…?" Sam asks the darkness but no-one answers him, only the distant calling of Dean's worrying.


	8. Chapter 7

"Sam? Sammy! What happened? Are you okay? Sam!" Dean hollers, the worry now evident in his voice and in his face, if Sam could see it, and swears to himself that he heard him vomiting but is relieved when he hears Sam crawling back through the tunnel. As soon as Dean spots him, he hurries to his side and helps him up, brushing off the dirt that's covering the front of his t-shirt and trousers before cupping his dusty face with his hands, "Are you okay? I thought I heard you throwing up…you're not sick are you?"

Sam can see the worry on his older brother's face and to ease him of it, he shows him his dimpled smile, "The smell of a decomposing corpse trapped in that cavern for all those years was a little too much for me but I'm fine now, so don't worry." He then takes Dean's hands away from his face and caresses them gently, to show him that he means what he says in which Dean responds with a half-smile.

"Alright," he comforts himself before thinking back to Sam's discovery, "So the corpse's definitely Lawson?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure? We can't make any mistakes on this."

"His name's written on his mining suit but there's something else," Sam scratches the back of his head and shrugs his shoulders, a sign Dean interprets meaning that there's a problem. He looks up to the dark ceiling and closes his eyes, wondering what could've possibly gone wrong that will deny them both a decent night's sleep.

"What?" His eyes' searching Sam's expression for any hint but all he gets is a deep sigh.

"His head's missing…"

"What?! Oh this is just fantastic!" Dean waves his arms in the air in frustration, "That means we can't wrap this up until we replace his head! It could be anywhere! For all we know it could've been eaten by rats or God-knows-what!" To show how frustrated he is, Dean stomps a nearby empty barrel, the noise echoing throughout the mine as he places his hands behind his head and sighs deeply.

"I don't think so," Sam finally replies, his voice breaking the eerie silence that looms within the mine, "From what I could see of the wound, it looked like someone chopped it off. There was no signs of it being torn off by animals."

"Ah, so the plot thickens," Dean replies with a satisfactory smile, as the cogs in his head to turn, "So, it's not just a spirit coming back from the dead…someone's calling him back to do their dirty bidding but who? And more importantly, why?"

Sam slips his jacket back on, seeing as it's starting to get colder, and places his hands on his hips, "Well we can't do anymore right now. Let's retreat back to a nearby motel and try to get some sleep or that shower at least," he gestures to himself, the dirt still caked on his clothes and on his skin, mostly on his face though. Dean finds that it just makes him look more adorable, like an 8-year-old kid after playing in the sandpit.

"Sounds like a plan, Sammy. Come on, let's get our things and get outta here." Swinging the bag up over his shoulder Dean leads the way back out of the mine but when they reach the entrance area, Sam gets a unusual feeling of dread brimming in his gut. Without even thinking he tackles Dean unexpectedly to the ground just minutes before a pick-axe flies overhead, in an attempt to spear his brother in the back. It lodges itself into the nearby wall and both Winchesters don't have time to recuperate as the 6'5" "Miner" looms over them and grabs Sam by the scruff of his neck. The "Miner" immediately throws him across the cavern where a few empty barrels, that had fallen on their side, softens Sam's landing before he grabs Dean around the neck and lifts him into the air.

"I was wondering when our "guest star" would show," Dean manages to choke as his assailant continues to wring his neck. Feeling the life being "literally" squeezed from out of him, he starts to wonder, Is this it? Is this how I'm going to be taken out? After all the suffering I've been through in Hell and I get taken out by this guy? His wondering stops when he hears a loud gunshot which causes the "Miner" to let go of him, screaming out in agony. Falling hard on his back the fall winds Dean who crawls backwards away from the conflict to catch his breath. He can see now that it's Sam, with a nasty gash over his left brow, using the double-barrelled shotgun loaded with rock-salt to drive him away long enough for them to escape. Once the "Miner's" spirit dissipates Sam uses this brief moment to hurry over to Dean and lift him up onto his feet before wrapping an arm round his shoulder and directing him towards the entrance.

"It's time to make our getaway before he comes back for more," Sam notifies, only getting a small whimper out of Dean as they hurry past the water tower.

Hearing booming footsteps from behind them Sam seizes a quick glance and notices that the "Miner's" back and has his pick-axe in both hands. With one arm round his brother and his other hand holding the shotgun, Sam doesn't dare reload with the "Miner" so close behind but is a little relieved when he spots the Impala in the distance.

"Come on Dean, just a little further."

What seems like forever they finally reach the car, Sam helps Dean into the passenger seat before sliding across the Impala's hood and climbing into the driver's side. Immediately realizing that he doesn't have the keys Sam fishes them out from Dean's pockets, who has now found time to take deep breaths, and forces it into the ignition. As he roars the car into life and shifts the gears into reverse, Sam punches his foot down on the accelerator. As the car's moving backwards and gaining speed by the second Sam can see that the "Miner's" making a final attempt at hindering their escape by lifting the pick-axe backwards and tossing it towards them. As it spins dangerously towards the windshield Sam prays that the car can outrun it going backwards but finds that just as it's about to smash the glass, it disappears into thin air as does the "Miner". Not wanting to stay around any longer Sam spins the car a full 180 and drives back the way they came, his face creasing with questions as to what he just saw.

* * *

Later on, in a motel about half an hour away from Fork Mountain, Dean's fully recovered from his recent bout with breathing troubles and is sitting besides Sam on their double bed, tending to his wound, dabbing a little alcohol onto some cotton before gently applying it. However as soon as it touches it though Sam winces at the sudden sharp pain.

"Ooh, that smarts," Sam grimaces, biting down on his lower lip for some comfort from the awful throbbing. Dean smiles, continuing to dab the wound until all of the blood's gone.

"Ah, don't be such a big baby…there, all better now," Dean informs as he turns away to swap the cotton for a plaster before sticking it carefully over the cut. While Sam prods it to make sure it's secure enough, Dean picks up the first-aid kit and shoves it in the bag which is right next to the door. Once it's in Dean turns back towards Sam, his face all apologetic and soft, "Erm Sam, thanks for…you know, saving my ass back there." His little brother knows that he's not good with the whole "expressing gratitude" thing but appreciates it nonetheless, "No need to thank me De. You did the same for me, countless times in fact."

Dean rolls his eyes, "Please, don't give me another "I'm a hero" speech," waving his arms in the air in a praised fashion, "I thought I was going to vom the last time you did and speaking of which," he stops his ranting and faces Sam, "You are okay aren't you? I'm not gonna have to _Mother Hen_ you or anything am I?" Using the word that Sam exploited earlier with great emphasis.

Sam gives out a huffed laugh, "No. I told you I'm perfectly fine now. It was just the smell of two decades worth of decomposing and God-knows what else that made me feel queasy, that's all."

"Well, that's okay then," Dean's quick to reply before he's slipping on his jacket and pulling on his shoes. Sam, who's presently in his t-shirt and boxers, stands up from the bed and places his hands on his hips, "Where are you going?"

"Ah, don't get those panties in a twist Sammy. I'm just going out to get something to eat. After nearly dying again, it's made me kinda hungry."

"The same ol' Dean, always thinking about his stomach," Sam huffs but in a jokily sort of way. Once his shoes are on Dean steps up to his tall brother, wiping his arms around him and embracing him into a tender kiss, "But you love me all the same," he says after hearing Sam moan as they part lips.

"Always," is all Sam can muster as Dean heads for the door before turning round to ask something, "Do you want anything seeing as I'm going?"

In times like this Sam would normally say "No thanks" or "I'm not hungry" but at this very moment a feeling in his gut tells him to ask for peanut butter and liquorice, "Erm yeah, I think I will."

"Well, what do you want Sammy? I can't get it if you don't tell me," Dean informs swinging his key-ring around his finger as he does.

"Could you…get me some peanut butter and some liquorice?"

Dean's face is a picture. Wide eyes, slightly open mouth and Sam swears he's seen a bit of drool at the corner of his mouth, trying to figure out Sam's weird choice in food, "But you hate liquorice."

"I know but for some reason, I want some."

Dean gives him one of those confused looks before shaking his head, "Alright, if you want it you're gonna get it but what's the peanut butter for?"

"For dunking the liquorice in?" Sam responds as though it wasn't a hard question to answer.

"So you want me to buy you liquorice so you can dunk it in the peanut butter and then, eat it?" Dean can't help but express his confusion as his brain can't fathom this peculiar combination.

"For the last time yes, is there a problem?"

"Nope, there's no problem. Just hate to think what your bowels will look like afterwards, that's all." And with that said Dean's gone out the door and into the Impala. Sam then hears it roar into life before it skids off down the road and into the distance.

Laughing to himself at Dean's reaction to his choice, Sam shuts the door and then flumps onto the bed, head on top & feet at the bottom, relaxing into its softness underneath him, placing his hands behind his head. Closing his eyes for just a moment, he suddenly feels a slight chill in the air and opens them straight away, his body jolting upright to face whatever's just entered the room._ Damn! We forgot to lay out the salt! Must do it after I've dealt with the intruder!_ Yet he's soon faced with it, standing with its arms crossed, its long, blonde hair shining in the light and dark, black eyes peering down at him, meaning he's in serious trouble. _It's only Ruby_, he enlightens himself, easing a little but not much because judging by her look, it seems that Ruby's pissed off about something and when she's in that kind of mood, you've got to be prepared for anything.

"You're getting sloppy Sam since Dean's been back," Ruby implies, letting her arms fall down to her sides, "Forgetting to salt the door and windows?" She points to it, "Letting your guard down? And worse of all, succumbing to Count Dracula's will and being turned into a vampire? Thank God Dean was there else our plans would've been out the window! What the hell's the matter with you, huh?! What happened to those 4 months of me training you?!"

She gives off the impression that she's about to punch him through the wall but she calms down a little, her arms back across her chest, her eyes turning from souless black back to clear, blue ones, "Or have you been using your downstairs brain instead of the one in your head?" She then stares for a minute, as though taking a good look at Sam before smiling devilishly, "But judging by the way you two have been going at it, I'd say that was a definite."

Ruby spins on her high-heeled boots and makes herself comfortable on one of the chairs positioned directly opposite the bed, her leg crossing over the other. Sam swallows the lump in his throat and struggles to answer, knowing full well that she's right, "Look Ruby, I'm sorry but with Dean being back, we've had a lot of catching up to do."

Ruby lets out a mocking laugh, "And while you two have been busy _catching up_, Lilith's still out there devising a plan that could devastate the entire world and we have yet to find out where she is."

"So? Have you found anyone who might know where she is?"

"Not yet," Ruby sighs, her finger lightly tapping her bottom lip, "Ever since word had gotten out that something pulled Dean out from the very depths of Hell, demons have gone into hiding and it's very hard to track a demon once they are, believe you me." She leans in when she says this before slumping back down on the chair.

"What the hell's going on around here, Ruby?" Sam's eagerness to find out plainly palpable on his face.

Ruby heaves a deep sigh, "I wish I knew." Her silence chills the Winchester a little bit, knowing that this is not a good sign. Ruby practically knows about everything that goes on in the demon community but to hear her come up with nothing, chilled him right to the bone.

"About Dean, we've come up with an idea that some high-level demon pulled him out," he nods to make sure of this but Ruby shakes her head at his response.

"No way Sam, human souls don't just walk out of Hell and into their bodies easy. This guy bleeds, the earth quakes -- it's cosmic." This time she's standing up, walking closer to Sam until she's towering over him, "Listen to me, no demon can swing that. Not Lilith, not anybody." Her lips stay pursed, her eyes not moving from Sam's.

Sam stands up to her, taking a deep breath before wanting to know the answer to his next question, "Then what can?"

It takes a while for Ruby to answer this, as though afraid that if she says it, it will smite her down where she stands, "Nothing that I've seen before."

Sam swallows down another lump in his throat, running a hand through his bangs, now starting to soak with sweat.


	9. Chapter 8

While Sam and Ruby are back at the motel, Dean's found himself a neat little convience store that's opened 24/7, with practically everything he's looking for, about 15 minutes in the opposite direction of Fork Mountain. Heading back into the Impala, he climbs into the driver's seat and shuts the door (carefully) behind him, checking in the bag that he's got everything; _pack of donuts, Snickers, a couple beers, Pringles and a little Valentine's Day surprise I have planned after we're finished the job. Oh yeah and his liquorice and peanut butter. That kid is seriously demented if he thinks he can eat that and not get sick but it might provide some amusement after what's happened tonight_,he laughs to himself before placing the bag beside him and turning the ignition. His "girl" roars into life as she reverses out of the small parking lot with a gentle purr before roaring back in the direction of the motel, with "heavy metal" music booming from within and Dean singing along…

"So, million-dollar question -- are you gonna tell Dean about what we've been doing?" Ruby asks, leaning back on her elbows next to Sam on the bed with one leg over the other.

Sam looks like he's in his own little world, finally blinking back into reality, "Yeah, just gotta figure out the right way to say it," he replies, looking down at her to find that her expression means that it's not quite the answer she was looking for.

"Look, just need a little more time, okay? That's all." He tries to persuade, gesturing with his hands, but being Ruby she's having none of it. She sighs crossly, pushing herself off the bed and taking a few steps away before spinning on her heels, "Damn it Sam, he's gonna find out and if it's not from you he's gonna be real pissed!"

It's Sam's turn to huff as he runs a hand through his hair, "Oh, he's gonna be pissed anyway. He's so hard-headed about this psychic stuff, he'll just try and stop me."

Ruby, knowing full well that she didn't come here just to fight, hooks a strand of her blonde hair around her ear and takes a breather. After what seemed like hours of silence she speaks up, "Look, maybe I'll just take a step back for a while."

"Ruby…" Sam starts but she interjects, "I mean I'm not really in your brother's fan club but," she stops to look at him, a understanding expression forming on her face, "he is your brother and I'm not gonna come between the two of you."

Sam nods a little, giving her a half-smile for understanding the strong relationship that he has with Dean before his urge to get something off his chest becomes unbearable to withhold, "Ruby listen, I don't know what I've been doing is right. Hell, I don't even know if I trust you."

"Thanks," Ruby replies, a little pissed that he would say something like that after everything's she done for him before and during Dean's time in Hell, causing her to cross her arms over her chest, a feat that Sam's grown all too familiar with.

"But what I do know is that I'm saving people, and stopping demons. And that feels really good," he shows off a real smile this time, his beautiful, hazel eyes clashing with it, proving to her that he really means what he's saying and it makes her feel good too, only a little bit, but she doesn't show it. She just nods and takes her seat back on the bed.

"I want to keep going."

Before their discussion can go any further, Ruby suddenly hastens to the door, opening it and peering out to the left before looking back, "I can hear Dean coming. I guess we'll continue where we left off another time."

Noticing that her jacket's still on the chair where she took it off because it was too damn hot in the room, Sam jumps up and grabs it, "Hey Ruby you forgot your --," but when he turns his gaze back to where she's standing, she's already gone, like a ninja into the night. Hearing the music booming from within the Impala just outside, Sam hurries in hiding the jacket in case Dean recognises it, shoving it into one of the drawers that they aren't using, praying to God that Dean doesn't have a notion to look in there for something.

"_Honey, I'm home_," Dean teases, always wanting to say that, holding the bag of goodies with both hands up against his chest as he shuts the door with his heel. Sam had managed to shut the drawer and jump on the bed before Dean even entered the room. Placing the bag carefully on the table he thumbs back to the door, "Why was that left open?"

"Oh," Sam starts, thinking fast about what to say before Dean gets suspicious, "I was about to salt the door and windows before I had to go to the bathroom," he lies, always feeling guilty when he does.

Dean closed his eyes, arches his head back and lets out a groan, just realizing that he too had forgot to salt the room, which was practically the No.1 Rule in the "Guide to being the Perfect Hunter" manual, if there was one that is, "Oh I can't believe I forgot. Do you mind? It's just that I'm dying for a pee!" Dean then disappears into the bathroom, hearing the bolt click to signify that he's locked it.

Taking out the salt from their supplies, Sam applies it on every windowsill and underneath the door before something catches the corner of his eye, the bag that's sitting on the table. Knowing that curiosity killed the cat he nevertheless treads softly towards it, wanting to know exactly what's been bought before Dean's voice booming from the bathroom stops him in his tracks, "And if you're even thinking of looking in the bag, you can say goodbye to your Valentine's Day present!"

Sam couldn't help but smirk, "You got me a present? I thought you said that now wasn't the time for that?"

There's silence from both sides until the sound of running water and Dean unbolting the door interrupts it. He stands underneath it leaning against the doorframe in just a towel, which's wrapped loosely around his toned waist and hanging dangerously short, "Well, that was back at the mine when we were on the job, now we're recuperating so it counts," he then thumbs in the direction of the shower, "Wanna take that shower before hitting the hay?"

Sam swerves round and nods at the bag on the table, "What about the food?"

"Ah," he waves it away, "We'll have it for breakfast," before beckoning Sam into the bathroom, "Now come on, time's a wastin'." To entice him even more Dean turns his back on him before looking over his shoulder, smirking as he pulls at the fold in the towel, letting it drop to the floor and letting Sam get the full view of his "Golden Globes" before disappearing behind the shower curtain.

Thinking back to what Ruby had said earlier, _Or have you been using your downstairs brain instead of the one in your head?_ It clearly was an insult but Sam had to smile at it anyway, _Like Dean said, we're recuperating so it counts, right?_ Not questioning it any further he pulls his t-shirt over his head, flinging it somewhere to his left before stepping out of his boxers, which were already down to his ankles, closing the bathroom door behind him.

* * *

After their shower together, Dean and Sam decide that they'll just sleep as the hunt really did tire them out and they'll need all the rest they can get to finish the job when they wake up. Now fast asleep, with Sam enveloped within Dean's protective embrace, the older Winchester stirs in his sleep as his dream quickly turns into a nightmare; witnessing flashes of himself in his time in Hell but can't quite make them out…

…(flash)…_He blinks to try to clear the blood away from his eyes as it slowly drips down his face…_(flash)…_Blood-curdling screams deafen his ears as he tries desperately to blank them out_…(flash)…_He can't hear his own screaming as the torturing continues before_…

"Ugh! No!" Dean cries out, bolting upwards, expecting to find that he's just woken up Sam but quickly notices that he's not on his side of the bed and that it's morning already. The Sun beaming in through the window making sure of that.

"Sam?" The sound of his little brother washing his face in the bathroom relieves him of the anxiety that was welling up inside and climbs out of bed. Little does he know that if he had woken up a little sooner, he would've heard Sam literally puke his entire guts out. After stretching out his muscles, Dean scratches the back of his head and just underneath his belly-button before Sam greets him with a cheerful, "Morning Dean."

"Mornin' Sammy. I see that you're feeling better."

"All thanks to you and your magic fingers last night," he replies, passing by him on his way to the bed to get changed into some new clothes as Dean enters the bathroom, wanting to relieve himself first before he devours the food he bought last night as his stomach's practically screaming out to be fed.


	10. Chapter 9

Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long to upload this chapter but it was a real bitch to write! Hope you like as the next chapter will be the last for this episode! Enjoy! ;)

* * *

Half an hour later, after the two had gotten dressed, Dean and Sam are sitting opposite each other at the table next to the window, watching as a lonely car passes by whilst eating the food that Dean had bought several hours before. Yet he's having a real tough time eating his jammy doughnuts whilst staring at Sam as he dunks his spongy liquorice sticks into the peanut butter, which had softened during the night.

Dean grimaces, "Seriously dude, that is beyond _sick_. Are you sure you're gonna be alright after eating that? Or should we keep this as a barf bag?" He then picks up the plastic bag he was given to hold the food.

"That's so funny," Sam retorts sarcastically after devouring one of the sticks with a lump of peanut butter on it, a groan escaping from the back of his throat to signify his satisfaction.

"I keep telling you I'll be fine and this," he shows off another stick with peanut butter on it, "Tastes freakin' gorgeous, you should really try some," he offers before his concoction disappears behind white teeth.

Dean presents his doughnut out in front of him so Sam can see it also, "I think I'll stick with these if it's all the same with you," he answers, turning away so he can eat it without having to watch Sam scoff down what he thinks is _proper_ food.

Once the brothers have consumed their grub they're quickly back into hunting mode, discussing what to do next, "So," Dean starts, pacing up and down in front of Sam with his hands on his hips, "Any ideas on who to point the finger at?

"Well," Sam begins, lifting one leg over the other and resting his head on his palm, "There's Mackenzie Kimble. We still haven't been to her place yet and checked her story out."

Dean shakes his head with certainty, "Nah, I think Arthur and his "butler" Gregson have something to do with it. I just have this gut feeling," before sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Why? Do you think Mackenzie's not capable of doing something like that in vengeance for having her lover snatched away from her when she was at her most happiest?"

Dean shakes his head to himself. He knows where Sam's going with this and although it does sound like a very good explanation, he just couldn't bring himself to think that a woman chose to evoke her dead lover's spirit into killing innocent people instead of living on knowing the fact that he truly loved her and wanted her to be with him forever. That's what Dean secretly craves for when he and Sam are finally done with this job, this so-called life they've been living since their mother was tragically killed by Azazel. A life where it's just him and Sam, living in a place they call _home_ filled with love, laughter and, hopefully, children when they're ready to become parents. That's the reason why they're so careful now when they're making love. Not wanting to bring an sweet, innocent life into the world that's filled with too much evil. It's not safe for a child but Dean argues that they'd be able to protect it with every ounce of their being. That's what Sam treasures the most about his brother; behind all the killing, the macho ego and the joking, Dean's overly protective and incredibly loyal to those he loves and cares about so much.

Dean blinks his thinking away, looking back at Sam who's waiting for his answer, "No, I can't imagine she'd do something like that. I still hold to my word."

"Well, if that's your choice then I'm not going to argue with you over it. You can just drop me off at Mackenzie's and I'll investigate it myself." Sam decrees, now standing to his feet and stretching his long arms into the air, nearly touching the ceiling with them.

Dean didn't like it. What if he's right and she is behind this? What if she attacks Sam and...he didn't dare say it less it comes true as he pushes himself off the bed, "No Sam, I ain't letting you go on your own. It could be dangerous."

Sam purses his lips angrily, hating the fact that Dean thinks he's still in need of protecting, "Dean! We don't have time for this right now! You know as well as I do that I'm right on this!"

Seeming like forever before Dean decides on what to do he eventually gives in, "Alright but as soon as you whiff any sign of trouble, you call me ya hear?" He points his finger at Sam, the other hand resting on his hip.

"Of course, now let's go. The sooner we finish this, the sooner I get my _present_," Sam flashes his eyebrows and his perfect, white teeth before leaving the motel room and Dean, who's shaking his head and smiling to himself, behind...

* * *

When they reach Mackenzie's address, they both quickly deduce that she also likes her privacy because before you can even get to her house, you have to either walk or drive down a long, dusty drive with forest surrounding it on both sides. Pulling on the brake Dean turns in his seat, looking at Sam with worry on his face and in his voice, "I still don't like this Sam. My gut's playing up with me and it's...spooky."

Sam has to laugh through his dimples, "Aren't we a little old for using words like _spooky_? Except Dean doesn't find it at all funny and gives him a look that just dares him to continue laughing.

"Hey I'm being serious here Sam, I'm getting a real bad vibe from this place," but before any more worry can slip into his mind Sam leans over, cups his cheek in his large hand and pulls him into a comforting kiss. Full of love and passion Dean knows he should pull back, demand that he go with him but he also knows that it'll just end up with the both of them arguing some more and Sam's just as stubborn as he is anyway. A trait they both inherited from their Dad. Finally both pulling back for the need of air Dean can't help but smile, licking his lips and getting a taste of his brother on them, "You know that's not going to work all the time."

"We'll see. Be seeing you," and with that Sam gives him a chaste kiss before departing, shutting the door behind him and strolling down the long drive with his bag full of essentials up on his shoulder.

Shaking his head with the thought of leaving him on his own after he promised himself that he wouldn't, Dean roars the Impala back to life and thunders down the road en route to this little "talk" with Mr. Greenway.

After seeming like hours since Dean dropped him off, Sam finally makes it to the home of Mackenzie Kimble but, instead of an extravagant-looking house with a white picket fence and a large garden ready for the Spring like he imagined, he discovers that it comes across as quite the opposite. The trees and the flowers appear dead and barren, as though they haven't been taken care of for years. The gate leading into the front garden's off its hinges and rusting with age while the path leading to the house's falling apart. _This is strange_, Sam mulls as he follows the path to the front door, _Looks like no-one's been here for years_. He clenches his hand into a fist before knocking on the door but it opens, clearly not being shut in the first place. Reaching into his bag for his gun Sam calls out into the darkness.

"Hello? Miss Kimble?" His voice echoes throughout the house as he edges himself inside, keeping close to the door. The floorboards creak from under his weight and the rooms inside look a lot worse than the outside. Curtains and furniture are dusty and tattered, the wallpaper's peeling off the wall and the place smells of dampness and...death.

"Miss Kimble? Are you alright?" _Course she's not alright Sam! It's probably her decomposing body that you're smelling right now!_ Sam shouts in his head, now standing right at the bottom of the stairs. Suddenly the door slams shut and a dark figure brushes past him so fast he doesn't have time to blink.

"Sssaaammmyyy," a voice resonates, definitely belonging to a woman and sounding quite soft and yet so menacing.

Sam jerks around, bag at his feet and gun out close to his chest, as the dark figure flies by behind him before he can even spin around.

"Tut, tut, Sammy. You're in my domain now," the voice declares before a hard backhand comes out of nowhere and sends him soaring into the living room and right against the wall before falling to the floor.

The figure strolls assertively into the room, her high-heel boots clicking against the wooden floors. As Sam struggles for breath he lifts his head up to glance at his swift attacker. Sporting a gray halter-neck top, which can't help but show off her cleavage, black low-rise jeans and those tanned high-heel boots, Sam's eyes widen as he realizes who the woman is who just attacked him viciously.

"Mackenzie?"

The woman smiles devilishly through white teeth before her eyes darken until they're pitch black like her shoulder-length hair, empty like all the other demons', "Used to be all those years ago. Now, it's Phebe."

Using her telekinetic ability Phebe lifts him off the floor and holds him against the wall, not putting on any more pressure other than pinning him to it. An intimidating smirk forms on her blood-red lips, accompanied by those empty, black eyes, "Well, well, well. Never thought I see the day I'd run into you. The one destined to fall to the dark side and become our ruler for the new age." Still pinning him to the wall, the black-eyed demon looks around and sneers, "What? No big brother to back you up with his wisecracks and "shoot first, ask questions later" motif?"

Sam doesn't say anything, just purses his lips and gives her a disgusted look, "So you've been killing all those innocent people," he manages before taking a needed breath, "Not Mackenzie. No-one could ever be capable of such acts unless they were evil."

Sam's surprised when she starts laughing, "What so funny?" He asks, wanting to know how he amused her.

"It was Mackenzie who wished this in the first place, Sammy. This sweet and innocent body practically begged for it."

She can see his look of bewilderment and carries on, "Oh yeah. It what you 'humans' call heartbreak. She was so full of it when I happened to 'bump' into her while she grieved. I practically promised her the world and she happily obliged, not knowing that I was lying and that she would only be a vessel in my plan to give me sustenance."

_Sustenance? Why would a demon want that? They don't need sustenance_, Sam wonders as she caught his thinking.

"Oh, I forgot. I'm not like other demons, well I mean I have the black eyes and the powers but I also have a little "hunger" problem. You see, unlike the others, I need to feed on the essence of humans to exist on this plane or I'll, well you get the picture. And what better to quench my thirst than on the essences of lusty lovers."

"So, why the spirit? Why can't you do it yourself?"

"It's called 'help' Sammy. Why do the dirty work when you can have someone, well in this case, something else do it for you? All I needed was something that was precious to her for the spell to work so, after finding her lover's dead body, I thought his head would do the trick. Now whenever I need sustenance, I just evoke him with the spell and he'll do the deed. Sometimes he'll come empty-handed so I snack on what I can find within this area but not all of the time, as you can tell by the smell."

And she's right as well. The smell of flesh rotting for two decades' becoming quite intoxicating as it roams up Sam's nose who's trying his best to breath in through his mouth but it only seems to make it worse. Then he catches something, her glimpse at his stomach. The same glimpse that Ruby gave him just last night. What has caught their attention that he couldn't see or feel for himself.

"Oh, now it's getting interesting," she grins before throwing him across the room, landing hard on top of an age-ridden coffee table.

A gust of air escapes Sam's lips as he struggles to breathe, clutching his chest and slowly clambers up with the help of the furniture. Phebe just waiting for him to make the move, not knowing what he's truly capable of.

"What's interesting?" Sam has to ask, keeping his posture as he takes in another breath.

"You mean you don't know? Ha, ha, I love it!" She exclaims out of nowhere, her hands gesturing in the air for a second, "But I'm not going to tell you. I wouldn't want to spoil the surprise when it finally happens...anyway, back to kicking your scrawny ass!" She then charges in, swinging a left hook but Sam blocks it and boots her in the mid-section before taking a shot at her several times.

As usual the bullets didn't kill her but she lets out a scream nonetheless, Sam mistaking her for a banshee. She looks down at her body, seeing the blood seep from the wounds and glares back at him, now majorly pissed off, "You ruined my top! You'll pay for that bitch!"

With heightened agility Phebe leaps into the air and revolves into a roundhouse kick, which connects with Sam's jaw and sends him slamming into the wall. Without giving him time to recuperate, Phebe then takes a hold of his bangs and starts to slam his forehead against the rotten plaster. Not taking more of this Sam, in a quick motion, places a hand on the wall to stop the head battering, grabs her by her hair and starts to bash her head against it. Then he throws her with all her might away from him before succumbing to fatigue. Holding onto his head, which now has a nasty wound, Sam's vision's blurry and can't see Phebe literally get up like nothing happened and strolls towards him. Standing right underneath the door-frame Phebe pulls him back by his hair and growls, "Goodbye Sam. Say hello to your parents for me."

Suddenly she lets out a breathless gasp. Looking up Sam can just make out a dagger, looking a lot like Ruby's, protruding through her chest. She then convulses violently, flickering with light before a small cloud of smoke expels from her mouth. Phebe's "essence" finally disperses, leaving Mackenzie's body to fall to the floor, dead. The only thing Sam can remember before blacking out is the hand holding the dagger baring a silver ring and the soft words of their voice reassuring him that he's going to be alright and that's it's over. Sam knew it's Dean straight the way and, although he's mad at him for coming to his rescue, he nevertheless allows him to hold him as he closes his eyes. Fatigue finally taking over...


	11. Chapter 10

What appears to be like an eternity in darkness Sam eventually opens his eyes, blinking to clear the blurry vision that greets him before realizing that he's back in the motel they stayed at when they first came to Cleveland, Tennessee. Slowly he sits himself up, placing a hand on the wound that was caused by Phebe's head-banging and finds a large plaster on it. Looking around he can't help but smile as his eyes catches the beautiful sight of Dean, sleeping in the nearby chair with his arms wrapping around himself.

As though by instinct Dean starts to stir, stretching out his arms and legs, opening his eyes to the sight of Sam fully awake from the attack that happened earlier on in the day, staring back at him with those hypnotizing hazel eyes.

"How ya doing Sammy?" He asks huskily, pushing himself off the chair and sitting down next to Sam on the bed.

"A slight headache but I'm doing pretty good…thanks to you I might add," Sam manages to say, rubbing a hand on Dean's thigh and looking straight into his eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't trust you enough to let you go on your own. It's just that," he stops to turn away, trying not to cry at the terrible thought that's roaming in his mind, "You're my little brother and I promised you, Dad and myself that I'd protect you no matter what. I love you so much Sammy…it couldn't bear to think of losing you again, not after what we've been through so much together."

Sam notices a lonely tear trail down Dean's cheek as he grips Dean's chin with his thumb and forefinger, turning it so that he's facing him, thumbing the tear gently so it doesn't blemish his perfect skin.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way. I love you too Dean and I thank you from the bottom of my heart for saving me," Sam blesses, still cupping his chin, before leaning in and gently brushes his lips against Dean's full, cherry ones. It's a long and passionate kiss, lips on lips and nothing else. When they break away Dean licks his lips and smirks, "What? So no arguing about this?"

"Well, I've realized now that no matter what happens to us, I'm always going to need you. For whatever reason, you'll always be there for me like I'll always be there for you," Sam then smiles, "Just promise you'll back off a little when I need some space?"

It's Dean now who pulls Sam close into another loving kiss before answering him, "I promise Sam. Cross my heart."

As soon as that word leaves his lips Sam jerks back, a large dimpled smile appearing, "Speaking of hearts, did you take care of our "problem"?"

"If you mean finding Lawson's head, which I won't discuss, putting it back with its body, then finally salting and burning it then yes…and all while you were sleeping." Dean then gets up and makes his way over to his duffle bag which is sitting comfortably against the chair he was sleeping in just a moment ago.

"Sammy, could you do me a little favour?"

"Of course, whatever you want."

"Could you just step into the bathroom for a minute. I need to prepare your Valentine's Day surprise. We've still got plenty of time to make up."

Sam looks over at the alarm clock on his bedside table and can see what he means, it's only 6:15 p.m. Turning to face Dean, he can see him waiting for him to get into the bathroom with his trademark smirk on his face, the bag behind his back.

"Alright…just don't be too long. You know how impatient I get waiting for your _surprises_," Sam points with his finger, as though threatening him but not really, before he disappears into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. Dean immediately gets to work on making this the best Valentine's Day his brother has ever had, revealing a bunch of red roses from behind the window curtain…

"Dean, it's been almost 15 minutes!" Sam calls from inside the bathroom, "How long are you going to have me wait? I'm starting to get restless!" He'd been pacing up and down the small bathroom and, like he said, is getting pretty impatient but finds that he doesn't have to wait long as he hears Dean calling him from behind the door.

"You can come in Sammy but close your eyes!"

"Oh what! I'm still not allowed to see! Jeez Dean, the suspense's killing me!" He huffs but complies anyway, turning the doorknob and closing his eyes as the door creaks open.

He feels a brush of air against his skin and finds that Dean's rushed past him and is covering his eyes with his hands, guiding him carefully into the "bedroom". When they reach the bed Dean whispers to Sam to keep his eyes closed as he takes his hands away.

"Okay, you can open them now." Dean orders, a little psyched at what he has planned for tonight and what Sammy's reaction will be once he sees it.

When he opens them Sammy's truly amazed at the scene laid out before him; Dean had gone full out to make this _the _best Valentine's day yet. He'd only decorated the floor and mostly the bed with red rose petals with a bunch of roses resting in a vase on the bedside table, obviously for him. The room's dark except from the several candles that are scattered around the room and giving the room a relaxing glow, the scent of lavender filling the air and Sam feels relaxed as he inhales the smell. He's about to turn round, kiss him squarely on the lips and tell him that it's _the _best Valentine's Day gift but Dean backs away, walking over to a stereo the room had in the corner of the room.

"Wait a minute, Sammy, here's the finishing touch," Dean utters, shoving in a CD and pushing down on the "Play" button. Sam's open-mouthed at what he's playing; one of his favourite songs - _You and Me _by _Lifehouse. _Dean returns to Sam's side and takes his hands into his own before slowly edging him into a slow dance. Sam moves in closer and rests his cheek on Dean's head, being so tall it's the only thing he can do.

_What day is it_

_And in what month_

_This clock never seemed so alive_

"Dean, this is just pure bliss. Just when I thought you weren't a romantic, you go and spring this on me. I _love_ it, thank you," Sam praises, wrapping his arms around Dean, feeling his gentle heartbeat thump alongside his own.

_I can't keep up_

_And I can't back down_

_I've been losing so much time_

"Oh, I'm not finished yet Sammy. There's any surprise in stall for a little later," Dean smirks, looking up into Sam's beautiful hazel eyes which seem to glisten in the candlelight as they continue to sway with the music.

'_Cause it's you and me and all of the_

_People with nothing to do_

_Nothing to lose_

"Can I have it now?" Sam beseeches, showing off his dimpled smile complete with puppy dog eyes.

_And it's you and me and_

_All of the people and I don't_

_Know why I can't keep my eyes off_

_Of you_

"What about this?" Dean nods to their swaying, "I thought you loved to dance?"

_All of the things that I want to say_

_Just aren't coming out right_

_I'm tripping inwards_

"I do but I love _you _more and whatever you have planned, I'd like to indulge in it as soon as possible," Sam then leans down and lightly kisses Dean on those luscious, cherry lips oh his.

_You got my head spinning_

_I don't know where to go from here_

Dean licks his lips before forming them into his trademark smirk, "Well, when you ask for it like that, how can I possibly refuse?"

_Cause it's you and me and all of the_

_People with nothing to do_

_Nothing to prove_

Dean moves their swaying to the edge of the bed, turning so that Sam's back's to it and let's go of his hands. Looking up at his little brother Dean begins to unbutton Sam's shirt, sliding it off his arms and throwing it somewhere to the side. He then starts to finger Sam's belt buckle before unbuckling it, pulling it off and throwing it to his other side. He then grips the zip and slowly unzips them, allowing them to pool onto the floor before allowing Sam to step out of them, who's now only in his boxers. Dean pushes him gently onto the bed and leans in, taking his lips into a loving, chaste kiss, "I need you to lie at the top of the bed for me."

_And it's you and me and_

_All of the people and I don't_

_Know why I can't keep my eyes off_

_Of you_

Sam can only smile as he complies, crawling up the bed until he reaches the pillows and lies back, waiting to see what Dean's about to do next. Still standing at the foot of the bed Dean pulls his black t-shirt over his head and slings it somewhere, not really caring where, before pulling down his zipper and stepping out his jeans as they slide down his strong legs. Now also in his boxers, which were black by the way, Dean makes his way to his bag and pulls out two pieces of white chiffon.

_There's something about you now_

_I can't quite figure out_

_Everything she does is beautiful_

_Everything she does is right_

"And what pray tell are you going to do with those I wonder?"

Dean climbs up the bed, a piece in each hand, and stops when he's looking over Sam, that smirk on his face, as he leans in next to his ear and whispers, "I'm going to tie you to the bed."

'_Cause there's you and me and all of the_

_People with nothing to do_

_Nothing to lose_

Sam's a little hesitant at being tied up but Dean's reassuring look on that handsome face causes him to settle back down, knowing full well that he's in perfect hands which are tying the chiffon gently round his wrists before applying them to the knobs on the edge of the headboard.

_And it's you and me and_

_All of the people and I don't_

_Know why I can't keep my eyes off_

_Of you_

Kneeling on the edge of the bed Dean glances down at the bound Sam, his eyes still glistening in the candlelight, noticing his tight biceps and abs flex as he adjusts himself on the bed.

"Dammit, Sammy, you _are_ so beautiful. I mean _really_," Dean utters, lowering himself down so he can capture Sam's lips with his, a hand pressing against Sam's head to deepen the kiss.

_What day is it_

_And in what month_

_This clock never seemed so alive_

When they break away Dean notices Sam blush, his cheeks reddening just a little and he thinks it's the most stunning sight he has ever seen, "That's twice you've called me beautiful. Are you sure you're not the one that's not feeling okay?"

"I'm feeling just fine, Sammy. Now, let's get on with the show."

Climbing off the bed and over to his duffle bag, Dean digs in and pulls out a brown, plastic bottle which Sam can just make out as _chocolate syrup_. Dean steps back onto the bed on his knees and looms over Sam, flicking the top off as he's about to squirt it. The brown sauce droops out of the bottle and onto Sam's warm body as he shudders a little, the sensation causing his skin to go all goose-pimply. Dean makes sure that it covers both his erect nipples, drawing a line between the two, before drawing it from the hollow in his chest straight down to his "innie" navel. Sam can only gasp as the cool sauce settles on his warm skin. Putting the bottle down for the moment Dean crawls over him, his hands beside Sam's heaving chest before bowing down and taking a chocolate-covered nipple into his mouth.

"Huh!" Sam gasps as Dean's tongue laps up the thick sauce whilst his lips caresses the tight, pink nub, sucking on it gently. Once that's devoid of sauce he trails his tongue across his chest until he reaches the other, licking and sucking like he did just seconds ago.

Sam tugs at the binds as the sensation of Dean sucking chocolate off his chest becomes too unbearable, his arousal becoming too obvious in his tight boxers. Dean takes notice, looking up from his licking and smirks, "I can see that you're _obviously_ enjoying this. Let me take these off for you. Get some air down there."

Once Dean relieves him of his underwear, flinging them somewhere to his left, he picks up the bottle again and uncaps the top. With Sam's cock now flat on his stomach Dean squirts the chocolate along the large, sensitive vein and keens when he hears Sam gasp at its touch. Once he's satisfied that there's enough chocolate on that heated flesh, he caps the top shut and throws it over to his bag before taking a good look at what he's created.

"Now for the main course," Dean smirks, as he grips the base of Sam's large arousal, the chocolate now dribbling onto his fist, before opening up his mouth and taking the whole lot in one go. The taste of chocolate and Sam is pure heaven as Dean's hot mouth slides up and down it, making sure to lap every bit of chocolate. Sam can't take it anymore; he's tied up, covered in lapped-up chocolate and Dean's saliva and now he's getting the best blowjob he's ever had in his entire life. Feeling that Sam's about to literally explode Dean presses down on his hips and only sucks faster, wanting to taste both his cum and the chocolate before he swallows it down. Thankfully he gets his wish as a few moments later Sam's hips buckle and shoots his load into Dean's mouth, who swallows as much as he can as well as the chocolate that's still in his mouth. Once settled Sam flumps on the bed, gasping with intensity, with Dean kissing his way back up before engulfing his spent brother in a hot-blooded kiss that's filled with saliva, chocolate and Sam's "essence".

"I never knew that it would taste so good," Sam gasps, licking the mixture from his swollen lips as Dean unties the chiffon and allows him to collapse on his chest, playing with the amulet that lies there comfortably, like it's meant to.

"Me neither. We'll have to try that again sometime," Dean suggests, wrapping an arm round Sam and hugging him closer.

"Thank you for tonight Dean and thank you for these," He then reaches out and takes out a rose from the vase on the bedside table, taking it to his nose to smell its lovely scent, "They're beautiful."

"_You _are so sad, you know that right? Anyway, it was my pleasure. Happy Valentine's Day Sammy," Dean replies, kissing Sam on the forehead.

"Goodnight _love_," Sam yawns before allowing his eyes to close and hopefully drift into sleep.

"Goodnight Sammy. Love you," Dean hears himself say, finding it weird that he doesn't find it uncomfortable saying it.

"Love…you…too."

The room's now filled with silence as Dean creeps out the bed and blows out all the candles before rushing back into the warmth of his dosing brother, happy with himself at what he'd done tonight for his _Sammy_ after what they've been through lately…


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note: **Well, finally! This is the end of Episode 2 and I basically borrowed the dialogue from "Lazarus Rising" but added a few of my own to help with where I'm taking this season! Hope you've enjoyed reading it as I have enjoyed writing it and will soon be posting Episode 3 so (please!) stay tuned! Also I love my reviews! Thank you so much! Really appreciate them! Thanks again!

* * *

Several hours later Dean wakes suddenly, feeling that presence he'd felt back at the police station in New Orleans. Careful not to wake up Sammy, who's still fast asleep, he quietly and so slowly climbed out of bed, his feet landing on the soft carpet feeling it tickle his bare feet. Picking up his clothes that are scattered around the room, he slips them on and steps into his shoes before picking up Ruby's knife and planting it in one of his pocket jeans. As he closed the door behind him the feeling's getting stronger and it seems to be leading up out the back, into the dark alley behind the motel they were staying at. Steam hisses from broken pipes and a cat meows in the distance as Dean creeps around, his hand on the knife when a voice speaks from the very shadows.

"Is that how you greet someone who helped you out of a certain situation involving steel bars and poor furnishings_?_" The voice, however, sounds more _human_ than before and not like the heavens themselves.

"Who are you? Why are you helping me? And what's with the voice?" Dean asks, his fingers still caressing the handle of the knife.

The voice then suddenly appears right behind him, his cool breath on the back of his neck sends chills literally down his spine, "I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.

Not turning round yet but sensing that this _thing _is somewhat _otherworldly_, if you can imagine that, Dean clenches his teeth and mutters, "Yeah, thanks for that," before turning swiftly and stabbing the _thing _right in the chest, knowing that if it's a demon, it'll be dead in seconds.

Yet when he turns round, he thinks that he's made a mistake. Standing there with a knife in his chest is a civilian, a young man probably in his early 30's wearing a tanned trench coat with a suit underneath, looking back at him before glancing down at the knife.

Dean soon realizes that it wasn't a civilian but if it's not a demon possessing it, what the hell is? The man gives him a smirk before pulling the knife out, hearing it squelching as he pulls it out and drops it on the floor.

"Who are you?" Dean asked again, taking a few steps back.

"Castiel."

"Yeah I figure that much but what I mean is, what are you?" His face slightly clenching, wanting to know what the hell this thing is that managed to stop time and survive Ruby's knife.

Castiel stares straight into Dean's eyes and answers him matter-of-factly as though it's common knowledge, "I'm an angel of the lord."

Dean inspects him from top to bottom before edging a little closer, "Get outta here. There's no such thing."

Castiel also edges closer, the two not letting their guard down for a second, "This is your problem Dean. You've lost your faith." Suddenly lightning strikes and from the flashes Dean swears he can see two shadows of feathered wings sprouting out of Castiel's shoulders and opening themselves up before the flashes disappear and they're gone.

"Well what's with the "tax accountant" get-up? Why aren't you in your true form?"

"My true form can be overwhelming to humans and so can my true voice which is why I'm in this form. I cannot take the risk of someone seeing or hearing me. Yet some people, special people, can see my true visage. You Dean are one of them, as you found out back in New Orleans."

"That was you talking?" Castiel nods his head before Dean remembers something, inspecting him again, "Wait, so you're telling me you're possessing some poor bastard?"

Castiel opens his trench coat, showing off the body he's currently possessing, "He was a devout man. He actually prayed for this."

Dean shakes his head, ready to go back inside, "Look pal, I'm not buying what you're selling. So who are you really?"

Castiel tilts his head to the side, as though wondering why he's not believing what he's telling him, "I told you."

"Right," Dean exhales, his face now looking sternly at the _angel_, "So why would an angel rescue me from hell?"

The angel steps up to Dean, his eyes never moving from Dean's, "Good things do happen Dean."

"Not in my experience," he mutters before turning away.

"What's the matter?" Castiel enquires but quickly realizing, "You don't think you deserve to be saved."

He turns back again, the same stern look on his face, "Why you do it?"

Castiel then stands tall, as though proud at what he's about to say, "Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you."

Dean doesn't know what to do. He just stands there motionless, trying to process in his mind what Castiel's just said, trying to find any reason behind it but discovers that there isn't any…as the angel disappears again into the night.


End file.
